Embedded into the backcountry areas of Zion National Park, the Sierra Nevada, Death Valley National Park, and the Mojave Desert, Courtney Purcell's ramblings have also taken him all across the country and the world. From hiking, climbing and peakbagging in the Rockies, the Andes, the high volcanoes of Washington and Mexico, into the depths explored in spelunking, and the canyoneering of the Colorado Plateau, here you'll find trip reports, route beta and "stuff" relevant to the world of...

Driving over to Sedona one morning from a roadside camp outside of Ash Fork, we were stunned by the green and white beauty of fresh snow on evergreens as we rolled through Flagstaff. Aaah, but what that dusting must look like in red and orange Sedona!

As luck would have it, Sedona was actually snow-free, though heavy, gray clouds threatened to dump rain upon us. So after a quick hike up The Cockscomb, me, DB and Harlan Stockman met up with my boy Walt Hutton and his friend Brad for an exploratory adventure up one of the fine unnamed peaks on the outskirts of town. We began the hike in as a gentle but soaking rain greeted us.

Eventually leaving the trail on our approach, Walt, who'd found a particularly nice set of Sinagua ruins up in the canyon below the peak before, led us off-trail to a rough route that worked cliffs and other obstacles to the first set. Pottery shards, a couple low walls, even a window!

Situated in a rather large alcove above a huge drop-off, this ruin had several crumbling walls, a window or two, pottery shards everywhere you stepped, and dozens of corn cobs. And to make access more challenging, an exposed traverse on narrow ledges led into the alcove. Sweet!

Enjoying a lunch and quite a few pictures, we soon decided the rain was a bit much to be scrambling and climbing around on steep slabs in hopes of finding an uncertain way up the improbable peak above us. It was time to hike out. A beautiful hike to a very special place.

...those moments when time stands still. The catalysts are as varied as the individuals who pursue this path: a meteor shower; a night sky so star-filled that it snatches your breath; another rise of the sun over distant mountains vast and untouchable; dodging a rock careening crazily down a gully; a desperate icy struggle through whiteout and ground blizzard down to the safety of camp after an unsuccessful summit attempt; standing atop a mountain with a friend, the whole world at your feet, a blinding sun blazing out of a flawless sky, taking the time to watch that sun dip below the horizon even though camp is still many miles and many thousands of feet distant; stumbling over boulders and through brush in the darkness; watching the starlight and the storm wrest for possession of the night sky, seated on a narrow ledge beside your rope-mate with only the clothes on your back for shelter, shivering the night away, knowing that, sometime in a distant place you cannot now touch, the world will once again grow bright, the sun will rise, and you will look out on the infant day with new eyes.-Bruce Binder

One final paragraph of advice: do not burn yourselves out. Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast....a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much; I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound men and women with their hearts in a safe deposit box, and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this; You will outlive the bastards.

-Edward Abbey

Future plans? I used to think about it. Now I don’t. Another year—two—three in the canyons? Every new canyon, every summit, every day down here is just too valuable.-Steve Allen